


Ghost of Bucharest

by PanicFOB



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Language, set just before Captain America: Civil War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 19:20:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20512154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicFOB/pseuds/PanicFOB
Summary: A man named Bucky with a mysterious past turns your world upside down on a five-day holiday in Bucharest.





	1. Chapter 1

Toothpaste: Extra enamel protection. You have sensitive teeth.

Toothbrush: Bamboo. Soft bristles. You have sensitive gums. And you care about the environment.

Hair Straightener: You don’t have sensitive hair. You fry that shit on the regular.

Shampoo: A kind that claims to tame your frizz, but fails miserably at it. You buy it every time anyway out of habit.

Body wash: Lemongrass scented. The same heavenly smell you had been using for ten years.

Razor: You were pathetically single, but there was hope for you yet on this weeklong European vacation. You didn’t want to be caught in a hot-and-heavy situation with embarrassingly long leg hair.

Tank tops and shorts: Tightly rolled to prevent wrinkles and create optimal usage of luggage space.

Condoms: See above comment about your love life.

Underwear: Sexy ones for the best-case scenario. Decidedly un-sexy ones for the worst-case scenario.

Book: You limited yourself to only bringing one. You refused to spend your vacation cooped up in the hotel room reading. The chosen one was an all-time favorite A Separate Peace.

You checked and re-checked your packing list. As you combed over each item for the millionth time, configuring them more efficiently, finding yourself more room for any last-minute additions or important things that you forgot to even write down on your list. Organization had always been a priority in all aspects of your life. You found that your mind would not work properly if your surroundings were out of order. You were at your best when you had control of your living and workspaces.

This vacation had been the furthest thing from organized. It had been spontaneous, and probably more stressful than any vacation should ever be. You blamed your friends for this unplanned getaway to Europe. You met Holly and Felix in your early twenties. They had already been married. Apparently, they had tied the knot right out of high school, and you were eternally their third wheel. At the beginning of the summer, the lovebirds had decided to do a three-month trip across Europe, staying in various places for a week at a time.

They had been hounding you to join them for a week in a city of your choice. You had not planned to say yes considering it was damn near impossible to ever get away from your shop. However, Holly became maddeningly insistent because they only had three weeks left before returning to the United States. You conceded, saying, “Fine. Where will you be next week?” She had informed you that they would be arriving in Bucharest, Romania on the following Monday. You booked a ticket that night and started making phone calls to your most trusted employees about covering your shop for the week.

You ran a plant nursery that you had built from the ground up all on your own. Botany and houseplant keeping had always been your passion, and now you grew and collected unique plants to share with the people of New York City. You tried to go as long as you could without needing help with the shop, but after two years of business, an article was written about your little green jungle of a shop in the local newspaper. Your number of regular customers tripled and you had to break down and hire two people to help you out. A few years went by, and you obtained a couple more employees. Now, just past your ten year anniversary of the opening, you had eleven people working for you.

There were only three that you trusted as much as you trusted yourself, though. Plant care was a delicate process, and one week of improper watering or too intense sunlight could damage a plant beyond repair. The plants you sold had to be kept in prime condition because no customer wanted to purchase an ugly-looking wilted plant. Everything in your shop was about organization: strict misting schedules, careful repotting, timed heat lamps. If you were to part from your baby, you could only leave it in the hands of those three employees whom you knew emphasized organization just as much as you did.

Luckily, they were more than willing to take over in order to give you some time off. You would arrive in Bucharest tomorrow, Monday, and stay through Friday. It was your first vacation in forever, and you really didn’t know how to feel about it. Stress, excitement, and a fear of the unknown all mixed around inside of you. You tried your hardest to press these strong emotions down and get some rest on the plane as it crossed the Atlantic Ocean.

You didn’t catch a wink of sleep on the airplane. Despite ordering an overpriced travel pillow on Amazon and wearing noise-canceling headphones that played soothing rain sounds for the entire ride, your mind had been restless in worry, both over the shop you were leaving behind and your vacation plans for the week ahead. What if something terrible happened while you were gone? What if the shop was robbed at gunpoint? What if it burned down in a fire? What if the misting system stopped working and all the plants had to be hand-watered? What if they didn’t let you through customs for some reason when you got off the plane? What if there was an error and the hotel didn’t have your reservation on file? What if Holly and Felix don’t make it to Bucharest on schedule and you’re stuck in the city alone all week? The hypothetical problems were endless, and every last one of them was out of your control.

The minute you got off your flight, you dialed the shop’s number.

“How are the Oscularia Deltoides doing?” you interrogated Elizabeth as soon as she answered the phone.

“They’re doing fine, Y/N. There are even some new branches sprouting this morning. Aren’t you supposed to be relaxing and enjoying your vacation?”

“At the slightest hint of root-rot, you make sure to re-pot them in dry soil. You know how susceptible they can be.”

“I know. We went over this a thousand times before you left.”

“And the Bromeliads, remember to water at the trough—”

“Not the roots. I know,” annoyance was clear in her tone. “I promise you that all your plant babies will be thriving when you return. Go have some fun, for the love of god, before you drive me up the wall.”

You finally agreed to quit nagging her weaved through the airport before grabbing your suitcase and stepping outside to grab a cab. After checking into your hotel, you called Holly, and she asked you to meet them at some quaint café for brunch. The minute your friends saw you, they knew something was wrong.

“Nobody is supposed to look this tense on vacation,” Felix remarked as he munched on a pastry.

“Yeah, yeah. When have you two ever known me to not be tense?” You took a large gulp of your Iced Latte and gave them both a pointed look.

Holly was stabbing her fork into a plate of Greaves and Onions. “I know just the thing for you.”

“Oh?” you raised an eyebrow at her in question.

“I spotted a flyer over there on that bulletin board for a guided meditation class.” She gestured to a corner of the café that was covered in various advertisements. “You should go to it all week. It will probably only take up an hour of each of your days, then hopefully, you’ll be stress-free for the remainder of the time.”

“Guided meditation? I don’t know. That seems a little ridiculous.”

“Come on, Y/N. Traveling is supposed to be about trying new things. Just go to the class today, and if you hate it you never have to go again,” Felix urged you.

They were relentlessly pushy. You weren’t sure why you loved them both to pieces. “What time does the class start?”

Holly glanced at her watch. “In thirty minutes?”

“And where’s it located?”

She told you the street name she remembered from the poster, but you had just arrived in Bucharest and had no idea how to navigate the city. You walked up to the bulletin board and typed in the address on your phone’s GPS. You realized it was at least twenty minutes away.

“Looks like you better get going,” Felix suggested.

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys later today?”

“Of course. We should go clubbing tonight!” Holly announced excitedly.

You groaned at the idea before rushing out of the brunch place to head to this guided meditation class. You made it two minutes before the class was set to start. There was only one mat left open at the very back of the room, next to a handsome looking man. He wore long sleeves and gloves despite it being summertime, and he had long, dark hair that was pulled up into a bun. You nodded at him in greeting as you sat on the empty mat, and he responded with a gruff “Hello,” without even looking your way.

The instructor told everyone to lie on their backs and breathe deeply. She began a count to time each inhale to, and then she transitioned into telling some sort of imaginative experience in a calming voice. You easily lost track of her words, but not because your mind was wandering, because it was shutting down. You hadn’t slept in over 24 hours, and just before you drifted off you thought for a moment how bad of an idea it had been to come to a public meditation class when you were so damn sleep deprived.

The next thing you knew, someone was gently shaking your shoulder in order to wake you. Your eyes flew open and met the steel-blue ones of the man that had been next to you.

“Looks like you got a little too relaxed there, ma’am.”

Your cheeks heated a little. “How embarrassing. Um, thanks for waking me…”

“Bucky.”

“Right. Thank you, Bucky.” You held out your hand for him to shake. “I’m Y/N.”

“You’re American?” he asked you. “I can tell by your accent.”

“Yeah, I just arrived in Bucharest this morning on vacation. I’m from New York. You sound American too, if I’m not mistaken.”

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Yeah, I haven’t been in the States for a long time though. Romania is my home now.”

“You must be fluent in the language then,” you surmised.

“Yup.” He was standing up now, and he offered you his left hand to help you up as well. When you took it, you noticed how strangely firm it was.

“Well, if I need a translator, I know who to come to,” you said in an attempt at humor.

“Uh, I’d be happy to help with anything you need.”

You raised your eyebrows at that statement. His cheeks pinked only slightly.

“Will you be here again tomorrow, Bucky?” you asked hopefully.

“Gotta be here to wake you up from your nap, don’t I?” You found that you quite liked the smirk he wore when he was teasing you.

“Certainly,” you replied with a giggle.


	2. Chapter 2

The ticking of the hotel room clock was incessant. You opened one eye to peek at the time. Five-thirty AM. You squeezed your eyes shut tight and willed your brain to go back to sleep. What was wrong with you? You had been up until one AM at a club with Holly and Felix, yet you couldn’t manage to sleep in through the morning. Most people would have blamed it on jet-lag, but you knew better. You had always been like this, your body’s internal clock insisting that you be an early bird from now until the end of eternity.

You groaned as you peeled yourself out of the bed, shuffling over to the small coffee pot and switching it on. While it brewed, you flipped through the Attractions of Bucharest brochure on your nightstand. A tour of Transylvania for that afternoon caught your eye. You took a picture and sent it to Holly, asking if she and Felix would be interested. The coffee pot beeped signaling it was finished, and you poured yourself a large cup. You really didn’t want to fall asleep in your meditation class again. You read a few chapters of the book you had packed, and before long, it was a reasonable hour to eat some breakfast. You ordered some Cozonac through the room service and ate a heaping amount of the sweet bread with a second cup of coffee.

You took your time getting ready, your mind flicking to Bucky as you delicately braided your hair and put just a tad bit of makeup on to highlight your natural features. You rustled through your suitcase in order to find the sexy pair of yoga pants you had been wise to pack. You paired it with a loose-fitting tank top and some comfortable sandals.

Holly finally replied to your message about the tour, saying that it sounded really exciting. You agreed to meet her and Felix at their hotel at four PM to go. Your meditation class started at eleven AM and lasted one hour, so that would leave you with four hours to kill in between plans. You figured you would give the plant shop another call at some point, but you really had no idea of what else you would do with your day.

You left for the class a little early, walking slowly along the streets and keeping an eye out for any shops you would like to visit or any advertisements for fun things to do. When you arrived, there were many mats open this time, but Bucky was already there sitting at his same spot in the very back, and you returned to the mat right next to him.

“Hi Bucky,” you said in a friendly tone as you sat down.

“Y/N.” He nodded his head at you.

Bucky didn’t look so good today. He had dark circles under his eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday. His jaw was clenched, and his shoulders and arms seemed very tense.

“Are you all right?” You asked him gently.

“Fine,” he answered, barely meeting your eye.

You supposed the man wasn’t really in the mood for talking. You didn’t say another word before the class started, trying to relax your breathing and your mind in advance. When the teacher asked you to close your eyes and lie back on the mat, you peaked a glance at Bucky, expecting him to already have his eyes closed. But those piercing eyes were studying you, and you quickly looked away and closed yours in embarrassment.

You managed to not doze off, and you finally experienced the absolute bliss that was guided meditation. You felt muscles relax that you hadn’t even known you had, and the constant knots that existed permanently in your neck and shoulders seemed to have momentarily released. As people started to stand up and leave the class, you sat up and looked at Bucky once again. The meditation must have been good for him as well because he looked loads better now than he had an hour ago.

He met your eye and gave a hesitant smile. “I’m sorry if I was rude earlier. I just didn’t have a very good night, and these classes are the only thing that seems to help most of the time.”

“No apology necessary, Bucky. I completely understand.”

“Congrats on not falling asleep this time.” His smile had turned form hesitant to playful.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.”

He stood up and offered you his hand once again. “Hey, Bucky?” you said once you were standing.

“Yeah?”

“I was wondering if you knew of any good street markets, since you’re a local and all.”

“I do. Did you want me to give you the address or…?”

“Actually, if you’re not busy, well, I was wondering if you would like to go with me…”

He was silent for a long moment, clearly deliberating something in his head. You were about to tell him not to worry about it and that it had been silly of you to ask, when he nodded his head. “Okay, yeah,” he said.

So, you followed Bucky through the sublime streets of Bucharest and ended up at a street market that you would have never been able to find on your own. It was lunchtime, and the two of you sampled dozens of different foods from an array of food carts. You tried Salata Bouef and Plescoi Sausages and Papanasi and Mucenici and Sarmale. Bucky kept making amused faces at you every time you tried a bite of something and nearly had a meltdown over how amazing it tasted.

“Romanian food is wonderful!” you informed him.

He let out a deep laugh, and you thought it was quite sexy sounding. “I’m well aware. I’ve been here for nearly two years now.”

“What do you do for a living?” you asked him out of simple curiosity.

“Odd jobs here and there, mostly. Right now I’m working part-time as a car mechanic.”

“Interesting,” you noted. He stopped at a stall that was selling fresh fruit and purchased a bag of plums.

“What do you do back in New York?” he asked before taking a large bite from one of the dark plums. I tiny bit of juice dripped down the corner of his mouth, and you were finding it hard to tear your eyes away from it.

“I own a plant nursery.”

“Really? For how long?”

“Ten years.”

“Wow, that’s impressive. You must really like plants,” he joked.

“I really do.” That plum juice was still there at the edge of his mouth, slowly making its way towards his chin. It was driving you mad, and the control freak in you just had to reach out and wipe it away.

“Sorry, you had some plum juice, just there.”

Bucky was looking at you quite intensely. “Um, thanks. Would you like to try one?” He held the bag out to you.

“Sure. Thank you, Bucky.”

The two of you parted ways not long after, and you spent your afternoon and evening with Holly and Felix, touring Transylvania and then going to dinner at some fancy restaurant Holly had picked out. You made it to bed at a more reasonable hour and hoped you wouldn’t need nearly as much caffeine the next day.

“Hey,Y/N. How are you today?” Bucky asked you as soon as you sat down.

“Much better than yesterday morning.”

“Me too,” he agreed.

It was quiet as more people shuffled in and took their places at their mats. “I was wondering…” you heard Bucky say next to you, and you turned your head towards him, “since you like plants… if maybe you would want to go to the Bucharest Botanical Gardens today.”

You blinked rapidly in surprise. Bucky was incredibly handsome, and you had thought that the trip to the market yesterday had been him being nice more than anything else. This sort of sounded like he was asking you on a date.

“And there’s a lunch place just near the gardens we could go to if you’re hungry after this class…”

Yup. Definitely asking you on a date.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

“Okay.” He grinned at you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from grinning back like an idiot.

You didn’t relax much during your meditation that day. All you could think about was your lunch date with Bucky. Why were you so nervous? You knew it would be the same as yesterday’s outing, but now you had advance warning and an entire hour to mull over all the ways in which you could possibly make a fool of yourself.

At the end of the class, Bucky stood up. “Ready?” he asked while holding his hand out to you.

“Ready,” you confirmed as you took it.

On your walk to the gardens, you told Bucky about the Transylvania tour you had taken with your friends.

“Have you ever done it?”

“No, I don’t really go to many of the tourist attractions around here.”

“Well, that makes sense, I suppose, since you’re not a tourist.”

You tried your best to describe the tour to him in immense detail, letting him know about all the great things he was missing out on. The lunch spot he led you to wasn’t too busy, and he told you the best thing to order was the Ciorba de Burta. You trusted his opinion and ordered a bowl of the delicious-sounding soup.

“So, what made you want to take a guided meditation class?” you questioned him as you slurped your soup.

He looked for a moment as if he really didn’t want to answer, before saying, “I was a soldier and a prisoner of war. I still deal with a lot of PTSD.”

You nearly choked on your soup in surprise. You could sense that Bucky lived with a lot of stress, but you had no idea of the internal struggles he was dealing with.

“I’m so sorry I brought it up, Bucky. It clearly makes you uncomfortable to talk about it.”

He shook his head and placed his gloved right hand over yours on the table. “No, it’s okay. I wanted to tell you. I feel that you should know that I’m a damaged man if… well, if we’re going to continue going on…”

“Dates?” you asked him with a smirk.

“Is this a date?” he wondered.

“I hope so,” you reassured him. “And I don’t think you’re damaged. Just a little complicated.

The botanical gardens were absolutely breathtaking, and you found yourself walking the paths very slowly because you never wanted your date with Bucky to end. You stopped at a pond together to feed the fish some seeds.

“Have you ever thought about returning to the United States?” You had to ask him this because despite only knowing the man for two days, you couldn’t imagine going home and completely forgetting about him at the end of your vacation week.

“I can’t.” He said to you glumly. Your chest tightened a little as you agonized over this new thing that you could not control. Bucky wasn’t the type of man you had a one night fling with and didn’t care about. He was the type of man that would make you fall in love with him if you gave him enough time. You couldn’t stay in Bucharest after Friday night, and he apparently could not come to America at any point. There was no universe in which this could be anything more than a one-week tryst.

Part of your brain insisted that a week of passion was worth the heartbreak that would follow. When Bucky asked you to go out with him again the next day, you quickly agreed.

That evening you went to some high-end clothing shops with Holly, and you finally told her about the charming man you had met in meditation class. She had, of course, taken full credit for making you go and leading you to this wonderful turn of events.

“We definitely have to find you something sexy to wear for your date tomorrow, then,” she insisted.

The two of you hopped around from store to store, you trying on dozens of clothes and catering to Holly’s whims.


	3. Chapter 3

Every moment spent thinking about Bucky felt like a blind risk, like a leap of faith. He was the ultimate uncontrollable factor in the plan that was your life. You thought about him constantly anyway.

You wondered who this woman was that could go on dates with a man she had known for three days, a man who lived in Bucharest, a man who hadn’t even told her his last name. For once, as the things around you slipped into chaos, it felt pleasant and freeing rather than maddening. Even if you went back to New York and never saw him again, you would always cherish how happy and at ease he had made you feel for the duration of this week.

Today, you would see him during the meditation class and then return to your hotel to get ready before he picked you up for an evening date. He hadn’t told you where he planned to take you, but you trusted Bucky to know the most enjoyable things to do in this city.

He was nearly late to the meditation class. You arrived first and had just lane down on your back when you heard him taking his place beside you.

“Hey,” he whispered as the teacher was already starting the breathing count.

You rolled your head to the left and opened your eyes. He was mirroring you, and there was a heat behind the steel-blue that you hadn’t quite seen in him before.

“You’re beautiful,” he said in a hushed tone.

You blushed and tried to change the subject. “Aren’t you supposed to be relaxing?”

“I am relaxed. Just thinking about you calms me… well, and winds me up, but in a completely different sort of way.”

Your cheeks somehow got even hotter. “Well, aren’t you rather bold today?”

He only grinned wider, completely unashamed. “Can’t help it. You just have this effect on me.”

“You going to tell me where we’re going tonight?” you whispered to him.

“A movie.”

“A movie? You know I don’t speak Romanian, right?”

“Relax. There will be English subtitles.”

Before you could respond, the teacher apprehended the two of you. “No talking please. Close your eyes and try to meditate.”

You gave Bucky the stink eye for getting you in trouble and turned your head back up to the ceiling to try to concentrate on relaxation. Ten minutes later, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt something brush up against your hand. You looked down to see that it was Bucky’s gloved hand trying to hold yours. His eyes were still closed as you let your fingers intertwine with his. There was no way you’d be able to feel at ease with the scorching heat of his palm touching yours through the thin fabric of the glove. The fire was spreading throughout your entire body, and you considered that it might be difficult to get through an entire movie with this man without jumping his bones.

At the end of the hour, you gave Bucky the name of your hotel and the room number, and he told you he would be around to pick you up at 7 PM. You grabbed a quick lunch on your way back and asked Holly and Felix over to kill the time. They had been doing all sorts of sight-seeing without you, but you really didn’t mind considering how much fun you had been having with Bucky. They told you about a few museums that they had toured, and you told them about the swirling of emotions that twisted up inside of you when you thought about this wonderful man you had met. They asked you questions about him, and you told them all that you knew: his odd jobs, his past as a soldier and prisoner of war, the fact that he was American but lived in Romania permanently now.

Your friends left at six, and you began getting ready for your date. You slipped into a dress that you couldn’t have resisted buying the day before. It was white with a pattern of ivy tendrils wrapping around it in odd patterns. The green of the ivy matched your comfortable flats. You wore your hair down, just clipping the front back a bit to keep it out of your eyes.

Bucky was right on time to collect you for the date. He took you to an ancient-looking cinema that was still in booming business. The tickets he purchased were for a movie called Aferim!.

“I promise you’ll like it,” he told you when you read the name aloud in confusion.

The film was set in the 19th century, and you found it to be very unique and easily set apart from American Blockbusters. You enjoyed it immensely despite having to read subtitles the whole time.

When you exited the cinema into the cool summer night, hand-in-hand with Bucky, he asked if you were hungry enough to go somewhere for dinner. You remembered how bold he had been toward you earlier in the day, and you decided to return that same boldness now.

“We could go back to my hotel and order room service,” you suggested.

He stopped walking and turned to face you. Your eyes met, and he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss. “Okay,” he said, “let’s do that.”

The kissing resumed the moment you were inside your hotel room together. When it got extremely heated, though, Bucky pulled away.

“Before we go any further, I feel there is something we should talk about.”

Here it is, you thought. He’s going to want to talk about the fact that you’re leaving tomorrow night and that you’ll never see each other again. That’s really going to diminish the sexual energy in the air.

To your surprise, he started pulling his gloves off and his shirt quickly followed to reveal that Bucky’s entire left arm was made of metal.

“Bucky,” you said, slightly horrified and saddened, “what happened?”

“Lost it when I was imprisoned.”

You stepped closer to him, raising your fingers to gently caress the place where metal met flesh. “I’m so sorry. Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore… If you want me to leave now, I understand.” He was looking at the floor, clearly too uncomfortable to meet your eyes.

“I don’t want you to leave, Bucky. I want you to stay with me all night, so we can make each other feel very very good.” You grabbed his metal hand and pulled him over to your bed.

Waking up next to Bucky was like watching your Senecio radicans gain two inches each day. It was seeing a new leaf sprout on your Fiddle Leaf Fig. It was tracing the Stawberry and Cream variegation on your Rubber Ficus or admiring the beautiful splits in a Monstera deliciosa. It was the pleasant smell of freshly bloomed Red Hyacinths and the pure joy of potting a Hoya carnosa compacta. It was the brilliant possibility of the thousands of little plant children that fell from a mother Bryophyllum daigremontianum.

Bucky sleeping next to you felt like the tendrils of a grapevine coiling around your heart. His hair, so wildly draped around his head, was the color of Ophiopogon arabicus. His lips were as red as the top of a Moon Cactus, swollen from all the attention you had given them the night before. And his chest, his wonderfully muscular chest, rose and fell like a Firestorm Azealia swaying in a slight breeze. How could you say goodbye for good to this man tonight?

His metal arm was holding you close, and you wondered how exactly he had gotten it. He hadn’t told you anything other than that he lost his arm as a prisoner of war. You had never met anyone else with a full metal prosthetic, though. And he seemed to have complete function all the way to the tips of his fingers; it was pretty advanced.

You grabbed the room phone and ordered up some breakfast, since the two of you had never managed to get dinner last night and your stomach was growling. Bucky finally awoke when the room service knocked on your door. You put a robe on to answer it.

“That smells really good,” he said from the bed. His voice still sounded very groggy.

“I couldn’t resist getting my typical American breakfast this morning: bacon, eggs, and pancakes.”

“I definitely won’t complain about pancakes,” he assured you as he stood from the bed and grabbed his boxers off the floor to put on.

As you drenched your pancakes in syrup, you mentally prepared yourself to ask a very difficult question. “I fly back to New York tonight. What happens after that, Bucky?”

You could see the sadness in his eyes, but also something guarded. There was still something about himself he was keeping from you, perhaps the reason he would not visit America again. “I think we just have to leave things as they are. But I can promise you I’ll never forget you, Y/N. You have made me happier these past few days than I’ve been in a really long time.”

“Then why can’t we try to make this work? We could do long distance, and maybe at some point you could visit me in New York.”

“No. I can’t return to the States. I told you that.”

“But you didn’t tell me why.”

“It’s a long story, and it doesn’t matter because telling you won’t change the circumstances.”

You felt tears stinging your eyes.

“I knew I shouldn’t have asked you out,” Bucky cursed himself. “I knew it would only end up hurting both of us.”

This was all going to shit, and you didn’t want to leave things with Bucky on a bad note. “No, you were right to ask me out. I wouldn’t change last night with you, despite the impossibility of a future between us. I still have ten hours before I have to be at the airport, and I want to make the most of it.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, Bucky. I’ll never regret spending another day with you.”

There turned out to be a jazz festival in Bucharest that day. It was taking place at Parcul Alexandru Ioan Cuza. You and Bucky dressed and meandered through the streets of the city, him stopping to point out interesting things to you, practically acting as a tour guide. When you passed a booth selling flowers, Bucky insisted on buying you something. You selected a delicate green Daylily and tucked it behind your ear.

Bucky smiled at you so tenderly once he saw you with the flower in your hair. “I never want to forget how stunning you are,” he said softly.

You thought for a moment before a perfect idea came to mind. “Do you know of any shops that do portraits?”

His eyes lit up. “I think so, yeah.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you down various winding sidewalks before stopping in front of a quaint little shop. You entered, and Bucky told the artist that he wanted a portrait drawn of you. You told the man you would like one of Bucky as well. It took about an hour for the man to draw both of you, and you were absolutely thrilled over the results. You now had a breathtaking moment of Bucky captured forever to look at as often as you pleased.

Finally, you made it to the festival. Melodic jazz music filled your ears as you and Bucky swayed together. You wove around the park that the festival was held in, picking up snacks form different food carts and feeling absolutely jazzed throughout the day. And then it was time to get back to your hotel room, check out, and head to the airport.

Bucky walked you back, and you practically yanked him into your room to share a passionate intimacy with him one last time. It was very different from the night before. This time there wasn’t a ceremonious removal of clothes or a pleasantly slow build to a climax. It was fast and hot and you never wanted Bucky’s skin to separate from yours. But it was over too soon because you had to go or you would miss your flight.

“I don’t know how to go back to my old life after this,” you confessed as you straightened your clothing.

“You shouldn’t go back to anything. You should go forward. When you get to New York, look to the future knowing you took something special from this.”

“And what is it I’m taking?”

“You take the memories.”

“And what about you?”

“I’ll take the footprints you left.”

“What do you mean?”

“When you remember me, know that I’ll be returning to all the places we went together as often as I can.”

You let out a sob as he wrapped you up in his arms. “It will be okay, Y/N. Just take the memories, and leave everything else behind.”


	4. Chapter 4

The first month back in New York was hell. Bucky had said it would be okay. But it hadn’t been okay. You were expected to pick right back up where you left off at your plant nursery, but the joy that plant care normally brought you just wasn’t there. You felt numb, and you hoped your plants wouldn’t suffer because you couldn’t seem to get your head on straight.

You kept the memories, but you often wished you hadn’t. They overwhelmed you at every moment of every day. You couldn’t sleep at night without thinking about how it had felt to have Bucky in bed beside you. You completely stopped selling Daylilies at your shop.

Despite what you had told Bucky about not regretting meeting him, sometimes you did wish your trip to Bucharest had been much more uneventful. And sometimes you wished you had fought harder to continue the relationship after you left.

As hard as that first month was, it didn’t compare to the struggle you went through on a very confusing day. A bombing at a UN meeting was plastered all over the news. To your dismay, the suspected bomber was a man by the name of James Buchanan Barnes. A man with a metal left arm. His photo filled every TV screen in New York. He was your Bucky.

You asked Elizabeth to cover the shop for you. You rushed home and immediately vomited multiple times in the toilet. How could this be? Sure, you didn’t know everything about Bucky, but you were certain he was a good man. There was no way you could imagine him doing something so evil as blowing up a meeting of diplomats and politicians. The news was completely perplexing to you, and you really had nobody you could talk to about it. Holly and Felix were back home, but you didn’t dare tell them the truth about Bucky. They had never met him, so they had no idea what he looked like.

You tried everything you could to relax that night, but your mind swirled with confusion and worry. Part of you felt betrayed by Bucky for making you think he was a wonderful man. The other part of you felt guilty for ever considering that the man you had known would have done this. You pulled out the portrait of him from your dresser drawer and held it close to your chest, sobbing harder than you had any of the previous nights.

A week went by, and all you learned was that the Avengers had some sort of fight with each other in Germany and it had something to do with Bucky. You were about ready to pull your hair out from anxiety. You started doing research online now that you knew Bucky’s full name, and you were shocked to find that he had been born in 1917. He was best friends with Captain America, and he had been declared dead during World War II. But Bucky had told you he had been a prisoner of war, so you figured that whoever had captured him and given him that arm had somehow also kept him alive and young for many decades.

The news was calling him The Winter Soldier, and bile rose in your throat every time you heard it. Apparently, he had been a stealthy Russian assassin and then a puppet of Hydra’s up until two years ago. The things you were finding out about him, both on the daily news and in your nighttime internet searches only seemed to be getting worse and worse. You were slowly starting to lose faith that you had every really known Bucky at all.

Miracles do happen, though. On what you expected to be another miserable day, you switched on the news to find that the true culprit of the UN bombing had been caught and questioned. James Buchanan Barnes had not been responsible for that incident, but he was still an enemy of the state for his past crimes as an assassin and was apparently on the run with Captain America.

You really didn’t know what you wanted anymore. You still felt strong things for Bucky, and you really didn’t want to see him found and imprisoned by the US forces. On the other hand, if he really had done all the horrible things the news said he had, then he probably should be locked up for life.

Another month passed.

The Avengers were holding an official press conference. They had big news, and you closed the shop for the day in order to cope. You sat in front of your TV, barely breathing, as you waited to see what Tony Stark had to say.

Stark made some brief introductions before jumping into the story that everyone was expecting. “Steve Rogers and James Barnes have returned to New York in the custody of the Avengers. They have taken a deal, the details of which will not be fully disclosed. I can tell you this, however: James Barnes never committed any murders of his own will. He had been tortured and put under mind control. The two men will remain at the Avengers compound under close watch and will not take part in any Avengers missions for the foreseeable future.”

You shut off the television.

So, there were your answers. Bucky hadn’t been a murderer, at least not willingly. He was in New York now but obviously confined to the Avengers headquarters. At this point, you weren’t even sure if you should try to get in touch with him.

The following day, you answered a phone call at the plant shop.

“Is this Y/N?” came a gruff voice through the line. You nearly dropped the phone in shock and panic.

“How… how did you get this number, Bucky?”

“You told me the name of your shop, remember? I looked it up the second Steve and I got to the compound and I was finally left alone.”

“I don’t even know what to say. I was confused for months about who you really were. I feel like everything that happened in Bucharest was just some sort of fantasy, like it wasn’t real.”

“Please don’t say that. It was very real. This past month has been hell, but one good thing came out of it.”

“Oh?”

“We’re in the same country again. The same state in fact.”

“What makes you think I ever want to see you again?” But there was no malice in your voice. Of course you had to see this man again, despite all the grief he had put you through.

“You haven’t hung up on me yet.”

“Fair point.”

“Say you’ll come visit me at the compound soon.”

“How am I supposed to know where the compound is?”

“I’ll send someone to pick you up. This is my cell number, so just let me know any time any day that you’re free and we can make it work.”

You wanted to make him sweat, but you didn’t think your heart could go much longer without being in Bucky’s hands again. “I’ll be free in an hour.”

He chuckled a little at your eagerness. “A man named Happy Hogan will be there waiting to drive you.”

“See you then, Bucky.”

“See you then.”


End file.
